


Webcam

by LaFlashdrive



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFlashdrive/pseuds/LaFlashdrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura really should not leave her webcam on so often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Webcam

Laura really should not leave her webcam on so often.

She didn’t care that it gave her footage of the dean possessing her body, reassurance that nothing sinister was physically in the room with her while she was having nightmares, or evidence of Carmilla playing Frisbee with her chore wheel. It also gave her plenty of footage of … other things. Things she probably shouldn’t see.

Carmilla did not change her clothes in the bathroom. Ever. Unless she was showering. And even then half the time Carmilla waltzed out of the restroom in nothing more than a towel, holding up outfits to her dripping chest before dropping the fabric and changing right there in front of the wardrobe. The forty hours of Carmilla lifting four hundred pound duffel bags, setting trash on fire, and drinking from bloody milk containers were punctuated by another twenty hours of Carmilla topless or pants-less or some combination of the two.

At first Laura ignored the footage. She deleted it along with the countless hours of silence and inactivity of an empty bedroom because it wasn’t relevant to her investigation or proof of Carmilla’s otherworldly abilities. Not to mention it was a total violation of Carmilla’s privacy (not that the whole project wasn’t already). But now Laura hesitated to erase those moments. They were relevant to her … other interests.

She did delete them, of course. Laura Hollis was not a person who would ever keep intimate photos or videos of someone that were given to her without their permission. That was too big of an invasion of privacy. It would be compromising to Carmilla’s reputation if the images ever got out (even if half the girls at Silas had already seen Carmilla naked), and Laura Hollis was not going to be responsible for such a defamation of character. She always deleted the videos of Carmilla. Always.

After she watched them, of course.

She couldn’t help it. Ever since Laura admitted to herself she had a crush on her broody vampire roommate, she had become far more invested in the videos. She told herself she was channeling her inner LaFontaine, watching the recordings for science like the bio major would want her to to see if Carmilla ever used her super speed to dress (or undress) or if such abilities were reserved for situations like chasing her murderous brother out of the room or rushing to avoid being late to class. Laura gave herself all kinds of excuses as to why she was watching her roommate strip before her on the computer screen, but that didn’t change the fact that when Carmilla’s underwear or bare skin made an appearance Laura’s brain turned to mush and refused to give her a single reason why she shouldn’t watch the footage.

Carmilla did not ever use super speed when she changed. She gave careful deliberation to each and every outfit. She’d dress and undress multiple times until she found the perfect attire to suit her mood, and she’d bend over to the bottom drawer of the armoire with her ass to the camera for as long as it took to dig out a specific pair of knee socks or a single bracelet in particular to complete her look. Carmilla would even change her underwear if her outfit was see-through (and Laura was painfully aware of just how many of Carmilla’s outfits were diaphanous) and she felt the colors of each piece of her outfit should match. For as lazy as Carmilla was, fashion choices were not something Carmilla rushed. That was probably why the vampire always looks so good – clothed or not.

Watching the footage was torture for Laura, torture in the best way possible. It was like asking to be tied up and teased when her and her partner had done this hundreds of times, worked out a safe word and fully discussed their boundaries. Laura loved every second of it. Until it became too much. Then Laura wished she really was tied up. Her hands were antsy and she didn’t trust them. The ache between her legs battled her rationale that it was incredibly inappropriate to touch herself to a video of a girl who had no idea she was being filmed.

The struggle never really stopped and neither side of Laura’s debate never really won. Laura was trapped in an endless cycle of clenched fists on top of slightly parted thighs and buried palms tucked beneath her ass so that she could not move them anywhere else. Usually the videos were over before Laura sank too far into her lust. Carmilla got dressed and left for class or did nothing but lie around and take a nap. Laura had another problem recently, though: she started playing the videos on repeat.

Putting the scenes in a loop was a bad influence on Laura’s morals. She told herself it was a shame not to watch the scenes more than once, and that would almost be okay if there was any length of time between the viewings. There wasn’t, though. She watched them back to back, and putting them on a loop gave Laura another problem: it freed her hands. Her fingers did not have to press any keys to replay or delete the snippets of video and that brought her hands back to her lap, back to thighs that felt too hot covered by clothes. She wondered if her skin was any cooler beneath them, if maybe the fabric housed all her heat, but it was this line of thinking that was truly her downfall. She slipped a hand beneath her sweatpants to check.

Her skin was not cool. It was flushed and hot and even warmer on the inside of her pants than the outside. She tried to restrain her hands to her thighs like she had always done, but the soft touch of flesh was tempting, as was the heat. Mindlessly her hand traveled to where she was warmest, to the core of her that was so heated it was practically molten.

She was embarrassed by how wet she was, embarrassed by how, with her fingers on her lips, she could feel the gush of fluid Carmilla’s nakedness produced in her. Her hands were uncontrollable after that. Her fingers were so slippery she could gain no traction, no control over them. They wandered wherever they wanted, slid in and out of her with such ease she was forced to stuff herself continuously more and more. It was first one finger at first, then two. Then two turned to three, and Laura’s palm was just as slippery as the rest of her hand. It crashed against her clit, spread its fluid to her outer lips and her thighs as she rotated her hand, circled her button and that spot inside her walls she had not touched in what seemed like so long.

Laura was not a quick masturbator. If she was going to cave to her desires and pleasure herself, she was going to make a big deal of it. It was a big deal to her, a once in a while gift on a special occasion. Living with a roommate did not provide her all the time in the world to touch herself and neither had living with an overprotective father who believed Laura should always keep her door open in case someone break in through her window and she be required to rush out of the room as fast as possible. She did not rush now, though. She took it slow, did not hasten her orgasm in the same way Carmilla did not hurry her outfit selection. She wanted her orgasm to be perfect, as best as it could be, and she knew that that could only be achieved through careful attention. She doted on her orgasm the way Carmilla doted on the perfect outfit, and she caressed herself slowly, painstakingly. Every little menstruation was intentional. Every thrust came at the exact right moment at the exact right speed at the exact right intensity. Laura methodically planned her own fucking, and she would have brought herself to nirvana if she could have controlled the opening and closing of the door behind her as well.

The half-naked woman on the screen burst through the door before Laura could stop her. Laura heard the door before she knew what it was and saw Carmilla’s reflection in the glass of her screen before she could speedily tug her hands out of her pants. But Carmilla was already full into the room with the door shut behind both of them before Laura could even attempt to get the video off the screen. She panicked, launched for her keyboard with a single dry hand and punched buttons at random. Carmilla saw this within seconds of launching her bag onto her bed and was more than suspicious of Laura’s behavior. The vampire sauntered over to her roommate before Laura could remember where the volume button was or bring up anything onto the screen that might cover up the small window of her video. She would have settled for opening up hard-core porn if it covered up the video of Carmilla from Carmilla’s own wandering gaze.

“Did I interrupt something?” Carmilla eyed Laura before she ever looked at the screen, but it wasn’t hard for the older girl to deduce what her roommate had been doing just from that. Laura was sweaty, flushed, and noticeably only using one hand – her left hand – with her dominant right hung limply in the air, shiny and perfumed in a musk that could not go unnoticed by Carmilla’s vampiric senses. “Were you reading Snape/Ron fic again?” she teased.

“Uh,” Laura stammered. “No. I wasn’t doing that. I wasn’t doing anything. Just, you know. Editing videos.” Laura let out an awkward laugh that disguised nothing and only succeeded in making her face blush an even darker shade of red. She was almost purple with embarrassment when Carmilla finally pried her eyes away from Laura’s fingers, deliciously moist and scented with cum, over to the desk and the computer monitor. All the time Carmilla wondered what kind of gay fanfiction could make a girl that wet, but what she saw on the screen had nothing to do with Harry Potter.

Poorly disguised by the half page document of Laura’s final lit paper was the recording of Carmilla bent over the wardrobe in nothing but black underwear. Carmilla’s eyebrows rose as her ears finally picked up on the muffled shuffling sound of her digging through their wardrobe.

Laura lurched forward in embarrassment, pressing sticky fingers against the buttons of her keyboard necessarily in order to stop the video and delete the file as fast as possible, afraid of what Carmilla would think of her now that she’d been caught red-handed.

Should she apologize? Explain how she didn’t really mean to and it just kind of happened and promise never to do it again? None of the options seemed ideal to Laura, and she buried her face in her hands in shame after dragging the file to the recycling bin, further torturing herself with the scent of her own cum on her hands at her nose and the knowledge that she would now have to wipe down her keyboard as soon as she went and washed her hands in the bathroom. She thought about getting up and going now, escaping the situation and avoiding the conflict all together, but her body was paralyzed with fright and she struggled to get up from her seat.

“I’m so sorry,” Laura spoke to her palms. Not even she could fully understand the words muffled against her hands, and she wasn’t sure how Carmilla was supposed to understand them either. She repeated herself at least three times before Carmilla laughed, smug audible in her raspy guffaw.

“If you wanted to watch me naked, all you had to do was ask, cupcake.” Though she could not see her, Laura followed the sound of Carmilla’s voice across the room, which was soon followed by the creaking of the bathroom door and Carmilla’s last words on the subject. “I also would have let you keep that video, you know. Shouldn’t have deleted it so fast.”

The timbre of Carmilla’s voice, that low husk that was so unique and so seductive and so incredibly Carmilla embarrassed Laura as much as the words themselves. Carmilla had hit on her before, but never so openly and never so sexually explicit. She was practically offering herself to Laura now and Laura was ruthlessly reminded of the unfinished ache between her thighs.

It was only when the bathroom door closed and a slab of wood separated her and Carmilla that Laura could finally lift her head. Her face was so hot it felt sunburned and her thighs trembled with rejection, but for a moment she was relieved, relieved that Carmilla wasn’t upset with her and even more relieved that Carmilla was gone.

That relief lasted no more than a second, though. It didn’t take long for her ears to pick up on the fact that Carmilla was in the shower. Not only did that mean Laura couldn’t go into the bathroom to wash her hands, when she looked back to the door to make sure that Carmilla had shut it behind her and that no one else would happen to pass by and catch Laura in the act of embarrassing herself, she noticed a piece of cloth swinging on the back of the door frame.

Carmilla had gone into the shower without so much as a towel.

Quickly Laura tried to gather herself and swallow the lump in her throat, but she could not take her eyes off the wood of the bathroom door, couldn’t get it out of her head that Carmilla was naked in there and would still be naked when she came out.

Laura swallowed again, but this time she swallowed her fears.

With deft, sticky hands, she activated her webcam, clicked the small red dot on the screen that said record, and waited for Carmilla to come out of the bathroom.


End file.
